This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations.
I thank Rowling for the universe she has created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.
"Hermione, it's been said that the BMRA - the British Magical Research Authority - are visiting the Ministry today to speak with several members of the senior staff," said Donald. "Any comments?"
"A while back the BMRA approached us about the possibility of using a modified form of the Imperius curse to help in the treatment of certain mental disorders," Hermione explained. "Unfortunately at the time it was the Wizengamot elections so discussions on the matter were put on hold. Now that the new Wizengamot is seated and have had time to get to grips with the job we are willing to discuss the matter more fully."
"Who from the BMRA are to be expected?" Asked Donald. Hermione consulted her papers.
"Operating Director of Mental Health and Deputy Operating Director Tobias Pearson and Madeline Donaldson will be leading the group," Hermione announced. "Also attending will be the Research Coordinator and Deputy Research Coordinator Donny Key and Clara Reece, Finance Director Howard Church and Head Magical Theorist Phillis Kay."
"And from the Ministry?"
"Harry, Neville and Amos are due to take this meeting," Hermione informed them. "Annabelle?"
"Thank you," said Annabelle. "I would just like to ask what influence you think having a man such as Amos Diggory in the room, considering his history, will have on the discussions."
"I imagine it will only be a positive," said Hermione. "Amos has first hand experience and will know better than anyone the suffering that solutions like this may solve."
"And there's no worries that this may introduce a bias?" Asked Annabelle.
"Have you met Amos?" Hermione remarked. A small ripple of laughter filled the room. "Yes, Susie?"
"Is there concern in the Ministry of a potential public backlash about legalising one of the three Unforgivable Curses, considering these spells have been outlawed for generations?" She asked, looking to Hermione expectantly.
"We believe the public are smart enough to realise we are not advocating for full legalisation," Hermione told her. "The potential for its use in the medical field has yet to be fully discussed but will most likely take the form of a waiver from the Wizengamot to allow the BMRA to use the spell for research purposes. Depending on the outcomes we may be able to make further amendments to the law to allow it to be used in a practical medical setting. Michael?"
"A small diversion of topic, if you don't mind," Michael announced, standing up with his notebook in hand. "We are now into the latter end of the Minister's term of office and I was wondering what you could say about the Minister's plans to run for reelection."
"It is far too early to begin talking about the election," Hermione said briskly. "There's well over a year before voting starts."
"And yet we have had past administrations state their intention to run, or otherwise, well before this point," Michael pointed out. "Has the Minister said anything?"
"No, he has not," Hermione said simply.
"In private?" Michael asked. Hermione shook her head
"Well then, can you ask him for us?" Said Michael. "It would be useful to know for the general public whether Minister Weasley is planning to run for a second term."
"I'll have to get back to you on that," Hermione told him. She cleared her throat. "Okay, that's everything for just now. I'll be back here later if you have any further questions." She gathered up her papers and strode from the room.
"Oh god, it's happening," she cursed as she walked alongside Demelza. "I thought we'd get a little further… dammit, Michael."
"I heard my name, that's not good." Michael had hurried after her and now was walking in stride. "Don't tell me you're mad at me."
"That was so out of left field," Hermione accused him. "Why did you bring it up?"
"Past administrations…" Michael began.
"By past administrations you mean the Fudge one," Hermione snapped. "Don't play games with me, Michael, I wasn't born yesterday." Michael sighed.
"I just asked," he said simply. "The people have the right to know."
"It's too early."
"It's never too early," Michael denied. He stopped them short, glancing around to make sure they weren't being overheard.
"Look," he said, lowering his voice. "I didn't just come at you with this out of the blue to try and make life difficult for you. There's been plenty of talk about Duncan Ecclestone making a run."
"Those talks have been going on for months now," Hermione responded.
"Yes, well, apparently it's about to be more than just talk," Michael told her. He glanced around, lowering his voice further. "Apparently he's ready to announce."
"He is?" Hermione asked. "When?"
"Don't know," said Michael. "But it will be soon, maybe as soon as later today. I thought I should give you a heads up. This is something you really have to be focused with now." Michael sighed.
"I should get going," he said. "Good luck." And he strode off.
Hermione watched him go.
"Demelza," she said, eyes gazing down the corridor after him. "Call Daphne. We need a meeting."
Half an hour later found Ron, Hermione, Dennis and Remus standing in the Minister's office, waiting for him to return.
The door opened.
"Okay, what's this all about?" The Minister asked as he strode into the room. "I just got out of a meeting with Kingsley about the situation in Peru and Blaise told me we had an urgent meeting here. What's going on?"
"I got a question in this morning's briefing," said Hermione as everyone turned to her. "Michael Corner asked if you were running for Minister again." The Minister paused. He sank into his seat with a sigh.
"What did you tell him?" He asked heavily.
"That we hadn't spoken about it and that it was too early to be making an announcement," Hermione said promptly. "But we're on a timer. Michael came to speak with me later. Apparently Duncan Ecclestone is about to announce."
"Once Ecclestone does there will be no avoiding the questions," said Ron. "The BMRA, Peru, nothing will keep them back. At least not for long."
The Minister sighed.
"Where're the others?" He asked, gesturing across at them. "Where's Amos and Harry and Neville?"
"Meeting with the BMRA," said Dennis. "I'm not sure they're going to have much of a chance to speak with us. Harry indicated he thought they were going to be tied up for most of the day." The Minister nodded.
"Alright," he said softly. "I suppose we'll do this without them." There was a pause.
"We need to make a plan for how we're going to deal with this," Remus spoke up. "For starters we need to know your decision. Are you running?"
The staff looked expectantly at the Minister. He looked away.
"I haven't decided yet," he said softly, gazing out one of the magnificent fake windows. "I had planned to have a decision by the time we returned from the holidays but… I've been going back and forth. I haven't yet come to a conclusion."
There was silence as the staff watched him.
"Well, you have to make one now," said Hermione apologetically. "Michael's started the questioning and once Ecclestone announces it's going to be a wave, and the longer we don't answer the worse we look."
"If our answer is yes then we should get out ahead of the curve," argued Ron, turning to Hermione. "Release before Ecclestone has a chance. Steal his thunder."
"It would most likely force him to reschedule," said Remus. "Even though he's well known he has been out of politics and the public eye. He can't afford for his announcement speech to be drowned out. Knock him down to third in a two horse race."
"And crippling a man of his standing could be crucial to reelection," said Ron. "We should absolutely try and drown out his announcement with our own. That is, so long as you are planning to run."
They fell silent once more as they turned to the Minister.
The Minister took a breath.
"Give me some time," he asked of them, feeling the heavy weight of the decision bearing down on him. "Give me until tomorrow at least. I'll do my best to have an answer for you then."
The others stood awkwardly across the desk from him, recognising they were being dismissed, and with a few nods of the head they left the room.
"Good morning," Harry said cheerfully as he stepped into Meeting Room 1, the assorted guests rising to their feet to greet him as Neville and Amos followed in behind. "Pleased to see you all again, Tobias, Madeline, Donny, Phillis, even Howard. I trust you are familiar with my companions?"
"Yes," Tobias Pearson said enthusiastically, shaking Neville and Amos's hands. "Fantastic to see you Mr Longbottom. And Mr Diggory, a real pleasure." Amos raised an eyebrow.
Harry gestured for everyone to take a seat.
"Where's Ms Reece?" Harry asked as he lowered himself into a seat, frowning. "I thought she was meant to be joining us."
"Clara has unfortunately been unable to make it," Tobias said regretfully.
"She's currently in St Mungo's getting checked out," Donny Key told them. "She's not been doing so well lately."
"I hope she's alright," said Neville as he sat beside Harry.
"As do we," said Tobias. He propped up his fingers. "So, why don't we get down to business."
"Certainly," agreed Harry, sitting forward in his seat. "Why don't I recap where we were from our last meeting. We came to no agreements, obviously, but I was suitably impressed by the potential applications of this work and so I've brought a couple of my colleagues to share their views as well."
"Which are?" Howard Church said bluntly.
"If the Imperius curse can be used safely to good effect then it seems like something that is worthwhile for us to pursue," said Neville quickly. "Obviously we've only heard second hand from Harry what you've said so we'd appreciate it if you could give us a rundown of where you think this research can lead."
"Certainly," said Tobias. "Well, as you know mental health problems are notoriously difficult to treat. In fact I'd even go so far to say that in this area we trail behind even our muggle colleagues. The idea that magic can fix everything has often held us back in the course of wizarding history and it seemed like this may be another case of it, but perhaps not. No spell has such complete control of the mind as the Imperius curse. If there is a cure to these mental conditions then it is almost bound to lie here, with this curse."
"What sort of conditions do you see this curse helping with?" Neville asked.
"Well, at this point, anything," Tobias told him. "From Insomnia to Anxiety to Depression, anything with a mental component can be potentially targeted, including some diseases we more commonly associate with other parts of the body."
"What about addiction?" Amos asked gruffly.
"Uh, yes, it could work for addiction too," Tobias said quickly. "Alcohol addiction, gambling addiction, eating disorders."
"So how would that work?" Amos asked bluntly. "You put the curse on them and tell them not to drink? That doesn't sound much like a cure to me."
"Well, yes, obviously that would only be a stopgap measure," said Tobias. "Ideally we'd want to target the patients desire to drink, rather than their ability to do so, as that is where the issue is. But of course weaning off medication is an important part of anything you could dare to call a cure. In such a scenario you could potentially have a situation where the curses strength lessens over time and the patients brain learns to take up those same impulses as it goes."
"And you think that's likely," said Amos doubtfully. "That the addict won't just go back to their previous thoughts."
"Well, of course we don't know," said Tobias anxiously. "But in theory and given the right modifications…"
"Fine," Amos barked out, crossing his arms with a glower. The people from the BMRA shifted uncomfortably. Harry and Neville shared a worried glance.
"Let's talk about how your research would work," Neville said, leaning forward and taking the attention off Amos.
As he did Harry glanced behind his back, taking in Amos's rough form.
What was going on?
"Are you sure this is what Harry wanted me to look over?" Dennis asked, looking down at the paper in his hand.
"Let me see," said Lizzie, pulling it away from him. "Yes." She dropped it back into his hand.
"Okay," said Dennis as he sat down behind his desk. "But I've got to say I feel a little overqualified. I mean, this is a retirement message."
"That's right," said Lizzie. Dennis looked up at her.
"A retirement message," Dennis repeated.
They stared at each other.
"Dennis," Ron knocked on the door, striding inside. "Have you got a moment?"
"Thank god, yes," Dennis breathed in relief. "What do you need?"
"I've got a task for you," Ron told him. "You're not busy, are you?"
"Not at all," Dennis assured him, giving Lizzie a firm look. "That will be all, Lizzie." Lizzie did not look happy.
"You'll have to do it eventually," she warned him but she strolled out of the room anyway, closing the door behind her.
"What was all that about?" Ron asked, glancing at the paper on Dennis's desk.
"Oh, nothing important," said Dennis, waving it away. "Harry apparently wanted me to write a message for someone named Bert Hornage. Have you heard of him?"
"Oh yeah, Bert," said Ron. "Works down in magical maintenance. I've heard he's finally retiring, I imagine they must be throwing him some sort of farewell party or something. He's been with the Ministry forever."
"Seems a little low on the ladder to be getting a retirement message from the Minister," Dennis commented.
"Yes, well, magical maintenance have some sway with these things," Ron said with a grimace. "You don't want to get on their bad side or they'll give you thunderstorms for weeks." He jerked his head to Dennis's window. "Paying them off like this really is the easiest way."
"Noted," said Dennis. "I'll get right on it then. Now, what is it you needed me for?" Ron shifted uncomfortably.
"I need your speechwriting skills," he told him grimly. "The Minister is going to have to make a statement regarding reelection at some point. I'd ask Harry to do it but he's busy with the BMRA and we're probably going to need it sooner rather than later."
"Right," said Dennis, feeling a little ill. "I can do that, I suppose. What's the scenario you're thinking of? Is this supposed to be a big speech or just a statement for him to read out from the podium?"
"A statement, most likely," said Ron. "But it's entirely possible we could need a big speech sooner or later. Certainly if he does decide to run again we'll be heading straight into reelection mode. You weren't there last time but campaigning takes you all over the place and the Minister is going to need to have something to say wherever he goes."
"Sounds like fun," Dennis said lightly. Ron shrugged.
"I suppose it was," he said. "I was stressed beyond belief but there were those moments, when we found ourselves gaining in the polls, after some of those key debates where the Minister just came out swinging." Ron shrugged. "We were the underdogs. Nothing was expected of us. No pressure. It won't be the same this time."
"You think he is going to run?" Dennis asked. "He didn't look so confident earlier." Ron hesitated.
"I don't know," he said simply. "I've had doubts for months now but… I just don't know what he's going to do. I mean, he's my father, I really should understand him by now."
"But I'm guessing it's the first time he's been in a situation like this," Dennis noted. "He doesn't seem to know what he's going to do any more than we do." Dennis hesitated. "For what it's worth, I think he'll run."
"You do?" Said Ron.
"The Minister has been faced with tough decision after tough decision for the entirety of the time I've worked here," Dennis told him. "And he's always done the right thing. Every single time. I'm sure he's going to do so again."
"You're assuming the right thing is for him to run," Ron noted.
"Isn't it?" Asked Dennis. Ron shrugged.
"I'm sure Duncan Ecclestone would disagree," he said. "We've ruffled more than a few feathers in the last couple of years. We've got enemies. Mostly racists and bigots but, hey, they still have support in the wizarding community. And up against someone like Ecclestone… if the Minister isn't really up for it then maybe he shouldn't run. Maybe he should let someone else take the charge."
"But who would that be?" Dennis wondered. "Do you know of anyone who would be able to do this job the way the Minister has? Because if you do then you should say now. If the Minister has a successor then maybe that'll be what it takes for him to make up his mind and say no. If there's no-one… then the Minister has no other choice but to run."
"Yeah," Ron murmured, rubbing a hand over his face. "That's about right." He sighed, then straightened up.
"You'll write the statements?" He asked, turning to leave. "One for if he decides to run and one if he decides not to."
"I will," Dennis promised.
"If we still haven't heard about Ecclestone by the end of today show them to Harry if you can," Ron told him, Dennis nodding. "And remember, Bert Hornage."
"Right," said Dennis. "I'll remember. See you later." Ron nodded and strode from the room.
Outside Ron hurried through the corridors of the Ministry, his mind focused, and soon enough he was walking into the Minister's outer office.
"Is he in?" He asked. Blaise nodded. Ron walked up to the door.
"Enter," the Minister called and Ron walked inside, gently closing the door behind him. "Ron, what do you have for me?"
"Nothing," Ron told him. He walked further into the room, the Minister watching him intently as he drew closer, and he stood over the Minister's desk. "I wanted to have a conversation with you."
The Minister took off his glasses.
"A conversation, you say," he said, placing the spectacles down on the desk and gazing up at him tiredly. "Do I need to ask on what subject this conversation will be on?"
Ron lowered himself into the seat by his desk.
"Minister, we've got a very small window here," he said urgently. "Ecclestone is bound to announce his candidacy at any moment. I've already been hearing word that he's in his old constituency right now, preparing a speech. He's going to run. You can't keep putting this off."
"I am aware of that, Ron," the Minister said tiredly. "Indeed for months now I have been grappling with whether or not I should run. I've spoken with Amos about it, with your mother, with Harry even."
"Well, now you're talking about it with me," Ron told him. "And we are getting down to an answer. Because time has run out. We've got to know." The Minister looked at him sadly.
"But see," he breathed, "that's the problem. I do not know. I could very well tell all of you that I am or am not running but that would be putting myself in danger of outright lying to you. How can I say one way or the other when I myself have not been able to settle on an answer?"
"Maybe that means you shouldn't run," said Ron grimly. "If you can't decide then… if you don't have the sense of purpose to drive you then you won't win reelection anyway. The best bet for you would be to stand aside and let someone else challenge Ecclestone, someone you can trust to continue all the fine work you've done so far. Do you know of anyone who could take over this job just as well as you?"
"I know many people," the Minister chuckled lightly. "Most of them are in this building and most of them would undoubtedly do an even better job than I. But would they want to run. I doubt it. After all, you wouldn't."
"Who says that?" Ron questioned.
"I do," the Minister replied simply. "You would undoubtedly be able to do this job well but you would never want to. You want to work behind the scenes, to be the man that the man relies on to wade through the politics and allow him to do some good. If I thought for even a moment you would run I might take the time to try and convince you, but I won't. It would be a waste of breath."
"You know that if you don't run and you don't have someone to fly your flag and tout your policies in this election, Ecclestone will win," Ron told him. "And he will undo so much of what we have done."
"Why do you think I've been struggling?" The Minister asked. "I am as aware of this as you are. And if it were not for the shadow of Duncan Ecclestone looming over us all I would likely have already decided to call it a day."
"So you're going to run?" Ron asked. "If you're the only one who can stop Ecclestone…" The Minister sighed.
"Give me time," the Minister said. "Just a little more time."
Ron turned away, trying to hold back his natural impulse to argue. They didn't have more time. But he understood. The Minister didn't have anything new he needed to consider. He had all the information he needed. And when pushed for an answer in front of all those reporters he'd give one, and it would be a surprise to him as much as any of them.
Ron rose to his feet.
"If you make up your mind," he said roughly, "Dennis is working on some statements. One if you decide to run, one if you don't. Just let us know."
"I will," the Minister nodded and he watched as Ron hesitantly turned and walked out the door.
The office became silent but for the steady ticking of the clock on the wall.
"Minister." Blaise was stood in the doorway, some papers in his hands. "I've got some projections from you economic advisors."
"Ah, thank you," the Minister said softly, accepting them as Blaise walked over to his desk and handed them over. Blaise turned to leave.
"Blaise," the Minister said suddenly, turning away from the papers to look up at his aide. "You undoubtedly must be aware of what's going on, vis-a-vis running for reelection." Blaise nodded. "What is your take?"
"Sir?" Blaise asked.
"Do you think I should run?" He asked. "I have been thinking on the matter for quite some time and yet I have failed to come to a decision. Your input would be most valued."
Blaise took a moment to think.
"I think you need to do what you want to do, Minister," he told him. "If you want to run then you should. But if you don't, if it's too much, then it is not a bad thing to say so."
"You think," the Minister murmured.
"You're not responsible for this country any more than your four year tenure commands," said Blaise. "If you choose to serve for four more years then you can. But it is not your responsibility to ensure the future of this nation beyond what you do while you're in office. The next Minister will always come, whether it is in this election or the next one, and it will be their job to run the country, like it is yours now. You have no responsibility to run again. So if you don't want to, then don't."
"And leave the country in the hands of Duncan Ecclestone," the Minister said sadly.
"If that's the best that the country can come up with, then yes," Blaise told him. "If you don't want to run again then it is time for somebody else to take up the responsibility. And whoever that person is it's out of your hands. You've done your part."
"I have, have I?" the Minister whispered.
"Unless you wish to do more," Blaise told him. "Yes. You don't owe anyone anything."
"Not entirely true," the Minister murmured. He glanced up at Blaise. "Thank you, Blaise. You've given me a lot to think about." Blaise nodded and silently exited the room.
"Monitoring of our experiments shouldn't be particularly difficult," Donny Key announced as the meeting in Meeting Room 1 ticked into another hour. "We have procedures built in specifically to guard against mistakes and misconduct as part of our identity. I imagine that Ministry oversight would be able to work in tangent with these measures."
"That seems like a cheap way of getting around our oversight," Amos muttered darkly. "By drawing our officials into the fold you have the ability to integrate them into your company, rather than what it should be, integration with the Ministry."
"We can find other ways," Tobias Pearson said hastily, stepping in as his colleague looked rather taken aback. "The suggestion was only meant as a way of describing how ready we are as a group to be overseen by an outward entity. We have no intention of deceiving anyone, particularly the Ministry."
"Of course," Amos muttered sarcastically. Harry turned his attention away from him with a grimace.
"We're not suggesting we believe there to be any nefarious motives from you, not at all," Harry promised. "We just want to be certain of the independence of those overseeing your work. They will need to be protected from potential influence by your researchers, we can't just take for granted that everyone involved with this project will have the integrity not to abuse this opportunity."
"We understand, and that is the basis of our own procedures on the matter," Key interjected. "We specifically have oversight within the group to ensure no misconduct in our research."
"But can we trust you with such oversight?" Amos pressed.
"You can trust your own oversight that will potentially follow a similar pattern to what we already have set up," Key announced, frustrated. "We have procedures for this which we can use as a basis for how the Ministry can oversee our work."
Amos let out a disbelieving noise, leaning back in his chair with a scowl, his arms crossed belligerently across his chest.
Harry had enough.
"Excuse me for a moment," he said, standing up and drawing looks from everyone in the room. "I have something I have to check on. Amos, could you join me outside?" He gestured with his head, fixing Amos with a firm look.
After a long staring match Amos eventually rose to his feet. The two of them exited the meeting room, walking a short distance away from the door to a quiet spot further down the corridor, before Harry turned to him.
"What is wrong with you?" He asked, his frustration bursting through in his voice. "What are you playing at in there?"
"I'm challenging them," Amos said shortly. "Someone needs to be tough with them and that someone clearly isn't going to be you." Harry shook his head.
"We don't need to be tough with them, actually," he pointed out, annoyed. "They have been nothing but open to our suggestions. They have accepted nearly everything we have put forward, they clearly understand that they can't do this without us being involved."
"And is that not suspicious to you?" Amos barked. "That they are so eager for our oversight."
"They are scientists, Amos," Harry exclaimed. "They don't have a political agenda. They just want to figure out if they can help people with mental illness, that's all. That's why they are being so accepting to our demands."
"And you believe any of this will work?" Amos spat. "You believe that any of this will make any difference? People won't suddenly sort themselves out, get back to the way normal people think, and putting them under the Imperius curse won't change that. People have no other choice but to face their problems head on and suffer, that is the only way to getting past them. No one can help, it has got to be them."
Harry fell silent at Amos's outburst, his anger and annoyance slipping away as he realised why the older man was acting this way. He sighed.
"Amos," he said softly. "Do you really believe that? Do you really believe that those with mental disabilities, with addiction problems, have to suffer? Amos, do you believe addicts deserve to suffer?"
Amos looked away gruffly.
"Don't know what you mean," he muttered, avoiding Harry's eye.
"Of course you do," Harry told him. "You're not an idiot. And guess what, I'm not one either. I know what you're feeling right now."
Amos scoffed. "Really?" He asked. "How could you? How could you possibly understand my point of view?"
"I understand far better than I think you're aware of," Harry told him softly. "I've been through things too. Not addiction the way you have but I do understand what it's like to have a problem that you believe is your fault. But it's not, Amos. I can assure you it's not."
Amos didn't say anything. He kept his gaze away from Harry, seeming to struggle with himself, and it pained Harry to realise just how much Amos's problems continued to haunt him.
"Amos, when was the last time you met your psychiatrist?" Harry asked. Amos flinched, telling Harry he was on the right track.
"A few months now," Amos muttered quietly. "Last time was just before the Wizengamot elections." Harry nodded.
"I imagine it being so busy, and you feeling better, prompted you to let it slide," Harry suggested. Amos didn't respond but Harry knew he was right.
"Maybe you should go back," he suggested. "Maybe you need that help again. It's not a bad thing to need it, Amos. You're in pain and that's not fair. And maybe someday we might be able to relieve that for you. But, in the meantime, talking to someone who knows what they're doing sounds like just the thing you need."
Harry glanced around, looking around at the generally quiet hallway they stood in, thinking back to the meeting he had left behind. He made a decision.
"Leave the BMRA to me," he told Amos. "Neville and I can handle it from here. You focus on getting in touch with your psychiatrist. And talk to people, okay. Trust that we want to hear your problems. It's not a burden to us to help you, but it is a burden to see you suffer in silence."
He placed a hand on Amos's shoulder, giving it a supportive squeeze, and then, after a moment of silence, he released it. He wandered back up the corridor, reaching the door of Meeting Room 1, and glanced back to where Amos stood.
The older man met Harry's gaze slowly, and an understanding passed between them. Harry gave Amos a firm nod and he stepped into the room.
"Sorry about that," he said as he walked into the meeting room, the conversation coming to a halt as he stepped inside. "We just had to discuss something. I apologise for the delay."
"Not at all," Tobias said politely, though his expression was anxious as he glanced up at the door. "Is Mr Diggory not going to be joining us again?"
"Amos has decided to excuse himself from the meeting for now," Harry told them, sharing a glance with Neville as he did so. "As you are no doubt aware he's had his troubles in the past and he's found himself unable to look past them. He may rejoin us later once he's able to overcome his bias but in the meantime he's left it to us to continue the meeting."
The representatives of the BMRA looked relieved, clearly grateful that Amos was no longer in the room with them and that his aggression would not be a factor in their discussions. Beside Harry Neville gave him a nod, his expression understanding, and grateful.
Harry turned to the others. "So, let's crack on then."
"Blaise!" The Minister called, skimming through the papers on his desk before picking up his briefcase.
"Yes sir," Blaise responded as he stepped quickly into the room. The Minister glanced up.
"Is there anymore paperwork I have to get through today?" He asked, placing the files in his briefcase.
"No sir," Blaise replied. "That's everything for today. If you sign them before tomorrow morning I can get them filed."
"Thank you, Blaise," said the Minister, snapping the briefcase closed and standing up, swishing his cloak over his shoulders. "That's me for the day, I'm going home. See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow, sir," Blaise told him, and he stepped from the room.
"You going somewhere?" Amos stepped into the office, glancing at the door Blaise had just left through and at the Minister, all ready to go.
"I'm calling it an early night," the Minister told him with a sigh. "I'm not sure if you've heard yet but apparently Ecclestone is about to announce. It's time for me to make a decision, and I can't do it here."
"Okay then, I won't keep you," Amos told him. The Minister frowned.
"Is everything alright?" He questioned, eyeing up his old friend with a careful gaze. "You look a bit shaken. Has something happened?" Amos hesitated.
"Yeah," he admitted. "Nothing big for you to be concerned about."
"So not work," the Minister concluded, his brow furrowing. "Amos?"
"I had…" Amos sighed, "a bit of an altercation with Harry earlier, and… it opened my eyes somewhat to the way I've been behaving, most notably the way I've been treating myself."
"Amos?" The Minister questioned, laying down his briefcase. "Are you okay?" Amos grimaced.
"I have not seen my psychiatrist in several months," he said grimly, forcing the words out. "I was feeling better and we were working overtime during the transition period without Harry and Remus around and so I thought I'd be okay not seeing him."
"Oh, Amos," the Minister sighed.
"I was mistaken," Amos assured him. "It has been affecting me terribly today and Harry called me out on it. He insisted that I go back to my psychiatrist and start again. And I agree with him."
"I'm glad," the Minister said. "You know that we only want what's best for you." Amos nodded awkwardly.
"I just wanted to tell you what had happened," he said. "I've hidden from you in the past about this and… it has not been fair. You are my friend and I've been insulting you by refusing to be honest. So, there we go."
There was a pause.
"I'm glad you told me, Amos," the Minister said. "You know you can always talk to me. Anytime."
"I appreciate that, Minister, I really do," Amos told him. "But for now I think it's best I start with my psychiatrist. A lot of work has gone to waste. I need to do this right." He took a breath.
"Anyway, that is all I wished to say," he told him, seeming to relax slightly now that the words were out. "I'll see you tomorrow, Minister. Have a good night."
"You too, Amos," the Minister told him and, nodding, Amos left the room.
The Minister stood there, the silence in his office broken only by the steady ticking of the clock, and he closed his eyes. He let himself fall into the sea of emotions that were raging within him, drowning in them such that when he opened his eyes again his breathing was heavy and he gasped, his chest rising and falling harshly.
Looking around his office, questions running through his head, he took a breath and strode out the door.
"Hey, you ready to leave?" Ron asked, popping his head into Harry's office.
"Just about," Harry told him. He glanced up. "I'm just waiting on Dennis." Ron raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Bert Hornage."
"Ah," said Ron, a small smile crossing his face. "So is he retiring tomorrow?"
"Yep," said Harry, glancing past Ron and out into the communications centre. "He said he was just finishing it, and that was a while ago. I wonder what's taking him so long. Can you see him out there?"
Ron turned to glance outside but just as he did so Dennis appeared before them, a strained look on his face.
"Have you seen?" Dennis asked breathlessly. "Look." And he led them out of the office.
The TV was turned on and all eyes in the nearly empty communications centre were on it as a tall, grey haired man stood behind a podium, speaking out over a sea of faces that were gazing up at him expectantly.
"For a long time I believed my service to this country had come to an end," Duncan Ecclestone told the crowd. "But it appears that the country has not finished with me yet."
"He's doing it," Ron muttered as the crowd on the screen cheered. "He's actually doing it."
"A great nation such as this demands a leader willing to sacrifice everything, to give everything, to do everything," Ecclestone said. "A nation such as this is everything."
"Are you guys watching this?" Neville asked as he appeared, immediately falling silent as his gaze turned to the TV above them.
"We need to move," Harry muttered, turning his attention briefly from the screen as Ecclestone began to speak again. "Cho, call Daphne and see if the Minister is still in."
"I'm not sure he is," Neville told him, even as Cho picked up the phone and quickly dialled. "I know Amos has gone for the day. And Remus has bound to have left."
"Then we need to go find him," said Ron grimly, as Cho spoke softly on the phone. She looked up at them and shook her head.
"Guys, have you seen this?" Hermione gasped as she came running into view, panting heavily as she looked up at the TV screen they were all staring at.
"He's announcing," Harry murmured.
"There are reporters outside my office already," Hermione told them. "They're going to come looking after they realise I'm not there."
"We've got to move," Ron said. "We've got to talk to the Minister before we're cornered by the press. We're going to the Burrow, all of us, and we're having this conversation."
Harry nodded his head in agreement and Hermione and Neville shared anxious looks.
"I'll stay behind and finish things up," Dennis told them and with that they strode away, over to the elevators and down to the apparition points to meet with the Minister.
In the Burrow Arthur Weasley sat watching the TV with a heavy heart. Behind him he could hear Molly pottering around the kitchen, unaware of what was happening in the next room.
Duncan Ecclestone was getting to the end of his speech.
"I have been proud to serve this great nation and it would be a privilege and an honour to do so again," he told the cheering crowd. "That is why I am announcing my candidacy for Minister for Magic."
The cheers were raucous, the supporters in the room shouting so loud that anything Ecclestone would want to say would be drowned out. Instead he just stood there, up at the podium, smiling down at his supporters and waving.
Arthur turned the TV off. The room fell silent.
"Arthur?" Molly had walked into the room. "Arthur, is everything okay?" The Minister sighed heavily.
"Be prepared, my dear," he said softly. "I believe we are about to have a few guests." He turned to look at her, giving her a sad smile. "It's time."
The knock on the door came a few minutes later, probably due to the fact that the visitors were forced to walk from the Weasley property boundary, such was the level of security around the place, and Molly hurried to the door, pulling it open.
"Ron?" She questioned but Ron just murmured something to her in response, causing the redheaded woman to step aside as her son entered the building and walked into the living room, Harry, Hermione and Neville following behind him.
They stood in an arc around the Minister, all watching him expectantly, and the Minister let out a sigh.
"Please, sit down," he told them tiredly. They did, sitting awkwardly on the edge of their seats. In the doorway he glimpsed Molly standing there, looking worried.
"I'm sure you all saw Duncan Ecclestone's announcement speech," he said. They nodded. "And you are here to determine whether or not I am going to run, before the press begin asking in the morning."
"They've already started," said Harry. "Hermione's office is currently under siege from reporters. We had to get here as soon as possible."
"So as to avoid being questioned," the Minister acknowledged, "before you can give an answer." Harry nodded.
"Sir?" Neville asked nervously. "Have you decided?" The Minister turned to him.
"Yes," he said. His gaze ran over them all, watching as they reacted to his words. "Yes, I have come to my decision."
Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville waited silently for the Minister to continue. They barely breathed as they watched him take them all in, as his gaze slid across them and over to where his wife stood in the doorway.
"Duncan Ecclestone is the front runner for any race, even one in which I am included," the Minister told them. "I have grown weary of the job, tired of the strain it puts on those around me, but without a successor, someone to challenge Ecclestone and who can continue what we've started, I cannot in good faith drop out, and allow Ecclestone to go unchallenged."
"Unfortunately I have no other choice," the Minister continued. "I cannot run again. And so, that is my decision. I hope you can understand it, I sense that you do, and I am sorry that it has to be this way. But this term of office will be my only. And that's all I can say."
The room was dead silent. The four ministry workers sat with their heads bent, wondering just where they were to go to now. It seemed as though a death knell had wrung over their administration.
"Oh, Arthur!" Mrs Weasley gasped and she flung herself into her husbands arms, wrapping him in a bone crushing hug, tears in her eyes. "Thank you. Thank you."
The Minister patted her comfortingly on the back, even as he felt his feelings lighten, and he realised quite clearly in that moment that he had made the right choice. He'd done what he could, and he'd done it well, but now his family needed him back. Molly needed him back.
The staff slowly began to rise to their feet.
"We should get going," Harry told him, looking at him over Mrs Weasley's shoulder. "We'll have a press conference to announce your decision tomorrow. Dennis has been working on a response. We'll get it to you tomorrow morning."
The Minister nodded his head in thanks, still holding his greatly relieved wife in his arms, and Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville quietly exited the room.
The next morning the Ministry was filled with a nervous energy. Everyone knew that something was happening, and the more astute among them realised it was about the Minister running for reelection. But those in the know weren't saying.
They did spread the word to those who needed to know. Dennis, Lizzie, Cho and Colin were pulled into Ron's office to explain what had happened, Hermione had taken it upon herself to tell Demelza and Neville told Hannah.
Harry, meanwhile, went to the Minister's office.
"Good morning, sir," he said as he knocked on the door, stepping inside and approaching the desk.
"Good morning, Harry," the Minister replied. He sat at his desk, glancing at Harry's hands. "What have you got there for me?"
"Your speech," Harry told him, handing it over. "Dennis was working on it yesterday, I looked over it when I got here this morning. When Hermione starts her press conference she will hand straight over to you to make your statement."
"Thank you," the Minister told him. He let out a sigh.
"Are you disappointed?" He asked. "I can't imagine you were happy to hear that I'd decided not to run."
"No sir," said Harry truthfully. "We all wanted you to run. We were all there with you."
"You think I've made a mistake?"
Harry shook his head.
"You know what you need better than we do, sir," Harry told him. "If you believe you are not prepared to run then we accept that. We understand. So long as you are sure then we will continue to stand behind you, no matter what your decision is."
"Well, I am sure," the Minister told him. "I get more and more sure with every passing minute. I've been conflicted for so long but now, I am satisfied. I've made my decision." Harry nodded.
"We'll send for you when the press conference is due to start," he told the Minister and he backed out of the room.
The Minister sighed. He had meant what he'd said. He was certain that he was not prepared for another term in office, so certain that he did not worry about saying so to the public. But he couldn't help but feel for the people who had worked so hard to get him there, who continued to put aside everything else to make his administration a success, who he had essentially abandoned to an uncertain future.
The door connecting the Minister's office to the Chief of Staff's opened.
"Amos," the Minister greeted, a small smile on his face. "I was wondering when I would be seeing you."
"Neville just finished telling me what happened last night," Amos informed him, his expression stiff. "Is it true?" The Minister nodded.
Amos looked away.
"I can't believe this," he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you would do this."
"Not run?" The Minister questioned.
"Because of me," Amos pointed out. "That's why you're not running. That's why you've come to this decision. If I had not spoken to you that night…"
"It would have made very little difference to my decision," the Minister assured him. "I didn't decide not to run because of you, Amos. You are the reason I ran in the first place. You took an unambitious, family guy and drove him to the highest position in the country. Regardless of what you said yesterday I knew you wouldn't be up for doing it again. I wouldn't want you to. It is time I returned to where I belong."
"And what of the Ministry?" Amos asked. "What happens once you've left?"
"Who knows," said the Minister simply. "I won't pretend to be able to predict the future. But it is time for me to step aside and let someone else carry the burden." He eyed his friend softly. "And time for you to do the same."
Amos sucked in a breath. "I won't abandon this Ministry…"
"I would not expect you to," the Minister assured him. "But in about a year and a half I will be leaving this office behind, and I would very much like it if you could come with me."
Blaise appeared in the doorway, catching the Minister's attention.
"It is time for me to leave," he announced, rising to his feet and watching Amos's eyes follow him. "We have had some brilliant times, old friends, but those are coming to an end. And so, for our last hurrah, let's make these last few months the best we can."
The Minister strode from his office, leaving Amos contemplating his words in his wake, and as Blaise fell into step behind him he made his way towards the press briefing room.
Outside the door Hermione was waiting for him.
"Ready?" She asked anxiously. The Minister nodded. "Good luck, sir."
She stepped inside, striding briskly towards the podium, and quietly the Minister followed behind her, stepping into the shadows and watching as she stood before the press.
"I know what you are all going to be wondering this morning," she told the assorted reporters in front of her. "So today I won't be the one speaking to you. Please stand for the Minister for Magic."
As one the reporters hurried to rise to their feet, only just noticing the Minister's presence as he walked into the light, stepping up to the podium. He nodded to Hermione, throwing her an encouragingly look as she watched him nervously, and, placing his speech on the podium before him, he looked out over the reporters.
"Nearly three years ago I had the great pleasure of being voted in to the office of Minister for Magic," he spoke, the standing reporters silent before him. "It was an experience beyond humbling and I could not be more grateful for the people who got me there, both among my staff and the public at large. Now another election looms in the distance and I know many of you out there will be hoping to be able to cast your vote for me again. To you, I can only say, I'm sorry."
He paused, taking a deep breath, before he looked over to the back of the room.
The senior staff stood there, watching him speak with blank faces. Harry, Ron, Neville, Amos, Remus, and Dennis, with Hermione standing to his side and Blaise and Demelza fading into the background. How he would miss these people when he was gone.
"When the election comes around again in just over a year's time my name will not be on the ballot," he continued, his voice strong despite the emotion that welled up inside him. "I will be stepping down when my term is complete to dedicate myself fully as a husband and father, to the wife and children that have been so good to me, and who have gladly suffered so I could continue working for this great nation. To them I say thank you. And to the rest of this country it has been an honour and a privilege being your Minister."
Harry sighed as he sat by his desk, not working but not wanting to go home either. It had been a truly historic day and Harry could not help but feel that if he were to leave then the events of the day would be set in stone. Deep down he held out hope that the Minister would change his mind and run, but everything else told him that it was over. Minister Weasley's reign was on a timer.
Everything was about to change.
His door opened, swinging slowly, and a dark shape came inside. His features weren't clear, the lights in the communications centre had already been extinguished, but Harry hadn't lived in the same dorm as him for seven years for nothing.
"Pull up a chair," he said, gently pushing one out with his foot as he bent to the mini-fridge he kept by his desk, pulling out a couple of beers and placing them on his desk.
Ron accepted the seat, using his wand to snap off the caps of the two bottles and taking a long swig from his as he settled down.
"Tough day, eh," Harry muttered, taking a drink himself and feeling the cool liquid slide down his throat.
"Tell me about it," Ron murmured quietly. He fell silent again.
Harry glanced into the communications centre beyond. "Is everyone gone?" Ron nodded.
"It's late," he told him. "Usually even we'd be out of here by this time."
"I guess we're here for the same reason, right?" said Harry, taking another sip.
"Thinking about the future?" said Ron. Harry nodded.
"I really don't know what will happen," Harry said with a soft sigh. "But I can't get away from the idea that Ecclestone's won this. I mean, I know we're far away but I can't think of anyone, other than the Minister, who could match him."
"I suppose we're out of a job," he continued, running a hand through his hair. "After the Minister's term is over we're going to have to figure out what to do. I've been thinking about returning to Liverpool politics. I don't know what role yet but I suppose I've got the sort of resume now that I can just pick and choose." Harry glanced over.
"What are you thinking?" He asked. "Going to take up that Cannons offer?" Ron shook his head. "Then what?"
Ron took a moment to speak.
"I want to stay in politics," he said softly. "And I want to work here, in this Ministry."
"We can't though," Harry pointed out. "Unless you decide to join Ecclestone."
"Or I find someone who can beat him," Ron told him. "If I can find someone with the sort of nationwide name recognition, someone who can appeal to the demographics Ecclestone does not, the young, the blue collar workers, someone who has ties to places where these sorts of people are in abundance, where we can form a base with which we can build from to properly challenge Ecclestone's position. And most importantly they would need to be someone who would carry on this Ministry's work." He looked at Harry.
Harry met his gaze. His eyes widened.
"No way," he muttered, shaking his head. "You can't be serious. You can't possibly be suggesting…"
"That you run," Ron confirmed, leaning forward in his seat, beer forgotten. "Of course that's what I'm suggesting. You are young, you are capable, you are attractive, and you can connect to people. You know this administration inside out, many of our policies are your policies. You are tied to this administration so firmly that if you run you'll be seen as its natural successor. You have worked alongside the Minister for four years, you are married to the Minister's daughter, you are a family man that people can relate to. Why shouldn't you run?"
"Ron," Harry shook his head. "Ron, I'm twenty-nine years old. That's way too young to be Minister for Magic. I'd be the youngest by a long shot, and there's a reason people my age don't get elected."
"Yeah, sure, that's an issue," Ron agreed. "But who else is going to run? Amos? Remus? They both have baggage, you know they'd never make it. If I could choose someone older with more experience then I would but I have been thinking about this all day, ever since last night really, and I could think of no one better than you to take over after dad leaves. You're going to be Minister one day, Harry, why not let it be today."
Silence fell between them. They gazed at each other, neither willing to admit that the other might be right.
Harry rubbed his face.
"Ron, look, I can't," he began, shaking his head repeatedly. "This is very sudden and I can't…"
"Don't then," Ron told him. "Don't tell me your answer now. But think about it. Really think about it. Because if you do I think you'll see where I'm coming from. If you do I think you'll run." Ron stood up.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he told him and he left the room, leaving Harry alone.
Harry sighed heavily. What was Ron thinking? He couldn't possibly run for Minister. The idea was ludicrous.
He glanced at his watch, recognising it was beyond late, and with a heavy heart he rose to his feet. Ginny was probably waiting for him back home, wondering why he was so late, or rather knowing exactly why he was so late and waiting anyway. He left his office, closing and locking the door behind him, and a few minutes later he had left the Ministry behind and was unlocking his front door.
The flat was dark and silent as Harry entered, surprising him as he divested himself of his cloak and stepped inside. Walking into the living room, vaguely planning on collapsing into the sofa and staying there, he noticed a small note sitting on the coffee table. He picked it up and read it, slowly lowering himself into a seat.
Ginny was at her parents' house, so the note said. Spending time with her mum in wake of the news of the Minister not running again. Of course she'd been aware it was about to happen, Harry had told her when he'd got home the night before, but he imagined it was probably the sort of big thing that family should be there for.
He placed the note down, wondering just how long it had been sitting there, before he heard the keys jangle in the door.
"Harry?" Ginny asked as she stepped inside. "Are you in?"
"I'm here," Harry told her and she walked into view, dropping her coat on the back of one of the sofas as she went. Smiling as she saw him she settled herself down in the seat next to him.
"I got your note," he told her, leaning back on the sofa and allowing Ginny to lean her head on his shoulder. "How was it?"
"Mum is over the moon," Ginny told him, as Harry had expected. "She's never liked dad working so much, even when he was just Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office. I haven't seen her so happy since the wedding."
"And how's your dad?" Harry asked. "I spoke to him earlier, but that was before his speech."
"He seemed happy," Ginny told him. "I don't think he's regretting it at all." She turned to look at him. "He is sorry for you guys though."
Harry swallowed. His conversation with Ron rose to the surface once more and he felt himself tense. Ron had told him to think about it, and that had been all Harry had been able to do since, but he knew that no matter how much time he spent considering the matter he had to talk about it with Ginny.
"Ron came to me with a proposition today," Harry told her, Ginny already sensing something was up as she watched him. "It was just before I left, just twenty, thirty minutes ago, maybe. And I honestly don't know what to say."
"What is it?" Ginny asked softly. Harry swallowed.
"Ron told me I should run for Minister," he told her.
Ginny was silent as he said this. Harry had half expected laughter, but she hadn't found the suggestion ridiculous.
"Wow," she muttered, looking down softly as if to take it all in. "That's… something." She looked up at him. "Are you considering it?"
"Sort of," said Harry. "Ron asked me to think on it so I guess I am it's just… there are loads of reasons why I would be a bad fit for Minister and I know Ron's got arguments against them all, but…" He trailed off.
"You don't believe you can do it," Ginny concluded. Harry looked at her.
"Of course not," he told her, laughing slightly at the thought. "I'm twenty-nine, I've never been elected to anything, apart from most likely to become a professional quidditch player in the Hogwarts yearbook. How could I possibly do this job?"
"Neither of those things are reasons you can't do the job," Ginny reminded him. "Just reasons you think people might not want to vote for you." Harry looked at her.
"You think I can do this?" He asked.
"I know you can," Ginny told him. "Getting elected, though. Well, I don't know much about it, but Ron does. If he thinks you've got a chance then you probably do."
Harry considered her.
"Ginny," he said softly. "It almost sounds like you want me to run." Ginny looked at him.
"Is that such a surprise?" She asked. "Are you really so shocked that I would think the man I chose to marry capable of being Minister for Magic?"
"It's not just about that, though, is it?" Harry asked. "Just look at your mother. Look how happy she is now that your dad is not going to be running again. I just can't help but think about all that she's been going through and wonder how I could possibly put you through the same thing."
"But we both know it's going to happen," Ginny told him. Harry stared at her. "You are an incredible man, Harry. You are driven, you are principled, you are smart and talented, everything that you are leads to the fact that you have the world at your feet. You can do anything, you could be anything. And instead of pursuing that promising quidditch career or being a world renowned duellist, or joining the aurors, you chose politics over everything. One day you are going to be Minister for Magic. I have always known that. It is only up to you whether that day comes a year and a half from now, or not."
Harry stared into her eyes, seeing her passion and her drive, and above all her sheer outright honesty. She believed in him to the ends of the earth.
"You think I should run," he said softly.
"I think you should do what you want to do," Ginny told him. "But know that it will end the same way, with you in the Minister's office. And I'll be right behind you every step of the way."
Harry let out a soft breath.
"What did I do to deserve a wife like you?" He murmured, blown away as he so often was by her love and trust.
A beautiful smile spread across Ginny's lips.
"You gave me your love and affection and everything I could possibly have ever wanted," she told him. "You are my whole world, what more could I ask for."
"You know I won't run if you don't want me to," he told her seriously. "I know how hard this will be. And I know you will be there with me every step of the way but you don't have to. You don't have to put yourself through that for me. The Ministry is not that important."
"But it really is," Ginny murmured. "The Ministry needs you, it would be selfish to deny them. And I know it will be difficult at times but every time it seems to get too hard I'll be able to think of how proud I am of you. As much as I wish we could fly away to some deserted island and just stay there together, never to be parted, I know the world will not let us. So let's change that world. And once your time in office is over, when you're ready to pass it on to the next person in line, you'll be able to come back to me and we can have that happily every after."
It was little more than an hour since Harry had left the Ministry that he found himself back there again. He was sitting behind his desk, waiting for the others to arrive, having made a decision that would not only change his life, but may very well change the world.
Ron appeared in the doorway, pale-faced as he looked down on him.
"You've thought about it?" He gasped. "And?" Harry waved him away. They were waiting on one other.
A few minutes later Hermione stepped into the room, looking confused.
"Harry, what's going on?" She asked, looking between him and Ron as though realising she was missing something. "Your message was incredibly cryptic."
"Don't worry, I'll explain," Harry told her. He gestured to the seats before his desk. "Sit down."
Hermione did so, still completely confused as she looked between them, while Ron lowered himself slowly into his chair, not once taking his eyes off Harry.
"Well then," said Harry, taking a breath. "Thank you for being here. I'm sorry to call you up so late but this is important."
"Of course," said Hermione. Ron stayed silent.
Harry turned to the Press Secretary.
"Earlier, just an hour ago, in fact, Ron came to me with a proposition," Harry explained to her, practically feeling Ron's impatience as he sat stock still. "We were talking about the election and Ron suggested a candidate that could take on Duncan Ecclestone. Me." Hermione's eyes widened.
"You?" She gasped. "Ron suggested that. Wait, what did you say? Are you going to do it?"
"I didn't say anything," Harry told her. "Ron told me to take my time and think about it. Well, I've done that. I went home and I spoke to Ginny. And I came to a decision." He took a breath.
"Well," Ron snapped impatiently, his gaze burning a hole in Harry's head.
Harry let out a sigh.
"Okay," he said softly. Ron and Hermione's eyes widened. "I'm in," he said, and he paused, "if you're in with me."
There was silence in the office. The three old friends sat together, with everything to say but nothing needing to be said.
"Harry," Hermione breathed.
"The two of you are my best friends," he said, looking across the desk at the both of them. "Those years when we had drifted apart were terrible now that I can remember what it is like to be together. We came together on the project to get the Minister elected and if I'm going to follow in his footsteps then I'm going to need the two of you by my side."
"We'd have to leave our jobs here," Hermione noted, turning to Ron.
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "That will make things more difficult for the Ministry but I can't do this without you. If I go you go." He rose to his feet. "So what do you say?"
Hermione glanced at Ron again, trying to read his expression, before turning back to Harry.
"If you want to do this…" she said hesitantly. Then she rose to her feet. "Then I'm there with you all the way. I can't let you do this alone. We're like the musketeers; one for all and all for one."
Harry smiled. "Ron?"
Ron stood up.
"Do you even need to ask?" He said, giving Harry a grin as he cuffed him on the arm. "No way in hell I was letting you do this alone."
Harry grinned.
"Well then," he said. "Here we go."
A/N: Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed please leave a Review and follow me on Twitter for updates.
Until next time.